Part 30 (1/2)

”Sev'ral kinds,” says he, ”endin' with a big display of all kinds of cookin', and two nights with big dinners, one to be served by each club.

There'll be the argimint contest, and it's always p-practical results that shows there, hain't it, Mis' Strubber?”

”You bet it is,” says she.

”So,” says he, ”I kind of reasoned out that we'd let results tell. Now,”

he says, ”the kind of argimints that counts is _sellin'_ argimints. And you got to sell somethin' hard to sell, and everybody's got to sell the same thing.”

”Mark Tidd,” says she, ”that's a splendid idee.”

”I was wonderin' what you could t-tackle,” says he. ”It ought to be somethin' havin' to do with b-brains.”

”Sure thing,” says she.

”Books, maybe,” says he. ”Or maybe s-somethin' that would be harder 'n books.”

”My husband's sister's second daughter,” says she, ”sells magazine subscriptions. She says it's the hardest thing there is-except newspaper subscriptions. She tackled that, but she says it was too much for her.”

”Um!” says Mark. ”I bet it wouldn't be too hard for _you_.”

”A-hum!” says Mrs. Strubber. ”I calc'late I could do it on a pinch.”

”Then,” says Mark, ”let's settle on that-sellin' n-n-newspaper subscriptions. But what p-paper can you git to let you? It'll be p-perty hard, won't it?”

She thought quite a spell and guessed it would be. Then all of a sudden she bust right out and clapped her hands together, ”Why,” she says, ”you're int'rested in this, and you got a paper. Couldn't we git you to let us use the _Trumpet_?”

Mark he sat back and frowned and sort of shook his head, but after a minute he says, deliberate-like, ”Well,” says he, ”I guess I'd be willin' to do that for a cause of this kind. But,” says he, ”it's concedin' consid'able.”

”Oh,” says she, ”thank you, Mark! It's awful good of you to let us do that. But what's the rest of your scheme?”

”Why,” says he, ”every year's subscription you sell will mean ten votes, and the side sellin' the most will be showed to be the smartest arguers, and the smartest arguers, everybody admits, is the smartest f-folks all around. Then, at the end, there'll be a dinner served by the Circle, and one served by the Home Culturers, that n.o.body can go to but subscribers to the _Trumpet_. That'll help sell the s-s-subscriptions. The night after the second dinner'll be the cookin' show, admission included when you sell a s-subscription, and every subscriber'll have one vote as to which club's wimmin is the b-best cooks. That'll about shut up every argimint as to which is the s-smartest and usefulest. 'Cause,” says he, ”the ones that win both them things will p-prove it so n.o.body kin say a word.”

”Mark Tidd,” says she, ”you're a smart boy.”

”Like the idee?” says he, looking tickled to death.

”You bet,” says she. ”How'll we start it?”

”Why,” says he, ”you have a m-meetin' of your club and git up a challenge to them Home Culturers, darin' 'em to contest that way ag'in'

you. I'll p-publish it in the _Trumpet_, and it bein' public that way, they won't dast to refuse, and you'll have 'em. See? And,” says he, ”as a example of p-public spirit,” he says, ”the _Trumpet_ will give a p-prize to the winners equal to t-t-ten per cent.,” he says, ”of all the subscriptions taken. It'll be,” says he, ”a set of books, real brainy books, for the winnin' club always to have in its l-l-library.”

”Mark,” says she, ”you're that generous!”

”Generous!” I thought to myself, for I knew mighty well Mark would be tickled to pay near twice that much to git subscriptions.

”I'll call that meetin' for to-morrow,” says she, ”and have the challenge ready so's you can publish it in the next paper.”

”Got a picture of you?” says he. ”I'd like to p-print it the day the challenge comes out.”

Well, the way she jerked one out of the plush alb.u.m and gave it to him would have made you scairt. She jest _tore_ it out of the page without waiting to draw it out of the slits.